Dear Mama,

Dear Mama,

I want you to know that I love being the “cool aunt”; I wouldn’t trade being able to play with my nieces and nephews without the responsibilities of bedtimes, diapers, and getting up early to make lunches. I love my marriage of almost 11 years and wouldn’t trade the freedom we have to travel, stay out late, and pursue the careers of our dreams. But I must confess, I struggle with my identity one day a year. That’s on Mother’s Day when everyone I see wishes me a “Happy Mother’s Day.” I just smile and say “thank you” as my heart breaks inside.

It’s hard to explain to a stranger that I don’t know if I have fertility issues because, since age 18, my doctors never thought I was in a place to even try to get pregnant and carry my own child. My friends all adore the beautiful relationship my husband and I have maintained for 16 years. One of my friends actually told me years ago, “When you guys have a kid it’s probably going to cure cancer.” My husband and I are both smart, driven, and very good looking ;) I would love to see what the combination of our strongest traits would create.

I remember when I was 25 working in insurance. I had been hospitalized twice that year and met my max out of pocket deductible. I could have had my eggs frozen for free, under my insurance policy. At 25, I wasn’t thinking about my biological clock and didn’t do it. I hadn’t given up hope of an alien invasion into my uterus where a single cell would become a person. A person who would one day need a backpack and then one day need a briefcase.

The worst part is that at 34 I’m finally in a place where I want to be a mom. I’m healthier now than I’ve ever been. The problem is the medications I take and the procedures I do monthly are deadly to an unborn child. I cry sometimes thinking about how unfair it is. To be with the same man all of my adult life and be responsible. We kept telling each other to wait until we were ready. Then, when we were ready it’s not only, not possible, it’s not even legal.

I’ve known people who were on drugs when they conceived their child. I’ve also known adults who were born addicted to drugs and they are all perfect. Unfortunately, the drugs they prescribe to me are worse to a baby than heroin and it’s not legal for me to do my monthly treatments without first confirming a negative pregnancy test. I feel guilty that I can’t give my husband a child of our own. It adds to the feelings that I already carry about being damaged because of my illness.

I view becoming a mom as a rite of passage into womanhood. Our bodies were made to do miraculous things to carry children. Even though I will probably never experience it, I can appreciate the beauty of pregnancy. It's a miracle really, considering there are only about three days in any given month that conception can happen.

I will enjoy this phase of my life I call Aunt-Hood. I’ll go to the baby showers, I’ll attend the recitals, and I’ll celebrate every birthday of the kids in my life. I’ll be there for my mom friends who are overwhelmed and look to me for advice on keeping your marriage thriving. And at the end of the day I'l remember how blessed I am to watch so many beautiful children grow up.